


Mercury and Me

by jackjones



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Queen (Band)
Genre: And fluff!!, Asexual!Crowley, Bisexual!Mercury(Just being honest), Bohemian Rhapsody, Comedy of errors (eventually), F/M, First fanfic ever, Friends to Lovers, Friends to lovers to wingmen, Genderfluid!Crowley, I would have loved Freddie Mercury to fall in love with me, Im projecting onto Crowley, M/M, Multi, Pansexual!Aziraphale, Queen - Freeform, Self indulgent fiction, Smut(Maybe this is my first time), Song fic, There is going to be so much angst, Unrequited Love, Zira is repressed, crowley is shy, god is a woman, ineffable husbands, queer romance, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-25 18:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19751614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackjones/pseuds/jackjones
Summary: Crowley finds himself doing something he promised himself he'd never do: fall in love with a human being. And not just any human, the legendary Freddie Mercury himself has caught the demon's eye. And it seems Mercury feels the same way as well. But when Crowley realizes he's still in love with an old flame, he enlists Mercury to help with his feelings. Hijinks ensue.This is my first fic, inspired by Crowley's love of Queen (and mine as well). I figured maybe he met Freddie at some point, and the result is this fic (also maybe projection).





	1. Killer Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first ever attempt at writing fanfic, and I'm so excited to put it on here. Feedback would be greatly appreciated, as I want to get better at writing. Killer Queen is one of my favourite Queen songs because it makes me feel like a femme fatale. Also, I will do my best to be historically accurate with this, but there are some things that trump research (like being at a Queen concert in the '70s or how your favourite singer would act during a performance). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I plan to post chapters weekly unless otherwise stated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley goes to his first concert and gets enraptured by the star that is Freddie Mercury.

_Edinburgh, 2nd September 1976, 7 pm_

The crowd overwhelmed Crowley like he was struggling against a sea of sweat and alcohol. Bodies pushed against him as he tried to fight for his own bubble of personal space. He knows he should have been prepared for this kind of treatment at a place like this. Regardless of how much he prepared though, it would never be enough. There'd always be an elbow stabbing his arm, a person's mouth too close to his nose, a torso too close to his. Truthfully, he despised concerts. He hated being swarmed by thousands of warm, slimy bodies. Reminded him too much of Hell and its tight spaces, Hell and its grime and grease, Hell and its suffocating atmosphere. And it isn't really wise to be in a place that reminds you of "work" while on vacation.

But tonight was the exception. He had to see this concert for himself. He had to know if the real thing was as good as the records he had stacked in his cabinet back at the apartment. Over and over again, Crowley had played those songs in his room to distract himself from certain...events in his life. He'd watched all the interviews, learnt as much as he could about each of the members. To say Crowley was obsessed was an understatement. It could be love, except Crowley was never sure what love was. He thought, for a very long time, he was in love with someone else. And he would go to the ends of the earth for that person and give them his life. But then one day that person rejects you in the worst way possible; by telling you they love you back, but can't be with you for who you are. The mere thought of that 'somebody' prompted his mind to dredge up the awful memory.

_"You go too fast for me, Crowley."_

It hurt as much at that current moment as it did when the words were uttered. They devastated him completely. The words made him smash the mirror in anger when he saw himself, nothing but a disgraced angel. Would he never be good enough? Heaven cast him out for daring to be different, Hell only tolerates him and the earth was indifferent about his existence. The one person who mattered to him in this wretched existence could not reciprocate his feelings because of the rules. Would he never be good enough? He knew that demons were supposed to be a manifestation of evil. But was it evil to question things? Was it evil to think for one's self? Was it evil to want to search for freedom of expression?

_Would I never be good enough?_

Crowley's train of self-reflection was halted abruptly by the sound of speakers crackling to life. _It's starting, finally_.

A man of stocky build came up to the mic in the front, and a stillness came over the crowd. He tapped it thrice and then began to speak.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please give a warm welcome, to the band known as Queen!"

The crowd exploded into a fury of whoops, hollers and cheers and applause as the band known as Queen came onto the stage. Crowley already knew all of their names. There was John Deacon, or "Deaky", with his lovely bass guitar and sweet brown curls. Roger Taylor, the blonde drummer, bustled out with such a burst of energy. Brian May, a master with the bass, walked on with grace and poise. And of course, there was Freddie Mercury, the frontman himself. He was impossible to miss, with his larger than life personality engulfing the whole area. He skipped, yes skipped, as he came out, waving like the King of England himself.

"Good Evening, Edinburgh! Are you ready for the show?"

A loud cacophony of "yes" burst through, and then there was cheering, and then silence, and then the snaps echoed through the hall as they prepared to play "Killer Queen". Mercury sang the first verse with soft, as always. It carried the same magic live as it did within the valleys of their records.

(Lyric)

**_She keeps her Moet et Chandon in her pretty cabinet_ **

**_"Let them eat cake", she says, just like Marie Antoinette_ **

**_A built-in remedy for Kruschev and Kennedy,_ **

As Mercury sang, everyone around Crowley seemed so small, so insignificant. He didn't care that a woman had stepped on his foot, nor that a man accidentally spilt his beer on Crowley's shirt, nor that another random hand shoved his back for the 5th time that night. The only thing that mattered to him at that moment was the beautiful man in front of him. His legs and arms acted on their own accord as they swam forward against the current of people. He had to see him, and he had to be seen by Mercury. Crowley wanted to be covered in the stage lights reflected off him, he wanted his eardrums to beat to the sound of his voice, he wanted to be drowned by his presence.

(Lyric)

**_At anytime an invitation you can't decline_ **

**_Caviar and cigarettes, well versed in etiquette_ **

**_Extraordinarily nice_ **

Crowley was at the front of the stage, his nose only a short from the tips of Mercury's shoes. He looked up at Mercury's countenance on stage, like a desperate man in front of a church altar looks up to God Herself in deep prayer. Except the ground beneath Crowley's feet was not consecrated, it did not hurt him to be there. But the hall's floor was as Holy as the church in the Vatican to Crowley because of who stood on its pulpit and how they made him feel. The lights made his face glow like he had a neon pink halo above his head. Like he was an angel.

_No, you idiot. Stop thinking about upstairs. Don't compare this guy to him._

(Lyric)

**_She's a Killer Queen, gunpowder, gelatin_ **

**_Dynamite with a laser beam_ **

**_Guaranteed to blow your mind, anytime_ **

And then Mercury's eyes met with Crowley's, or rather, Crowley's dark shades. They didn't falter for a second. Crowley thought he would burst into flames by the intensity of his gaze. He felt like he was the only one in the room, watching the man in front of him perform. Mercury smiled brightly and winked at him, and there was no denying that it was for anyone but Crowley. He began to dance across the stage, swinging the mic stand like it was his dance partner, not taking his eyes off Crowley for even a fraction of a second. He swayed as he sang, and the words were belted out with such a directness as if being pointed to someone in the crowd. 

(Lyric)

**_Drop of a hat she's as willing as playful as a pussy cat_ **

**_Then momentarily out of action, temporarily out of gas_ **

**_To absolutely drive you wild, wild_ **

And with a hungry look, a wide smile and a twinkle in his eye, he sang without a doubt to Crowley;

(Lyric)

**_She's all out to get you_ **

Now, Crowley knew that he could have easily make Mercury fall in love with him, even if it was by accident. And he's done it before; all he had to do was snap his fingers, and the singer would jump into Crowley's arms, absolutely smitten. But it wouldn't feel genuine. Not as genuine as Mercury making passes at him in the middle of a live performance with nothing but the sway of his hips and the tilt of his neck and the tone of his voice. Crowley watched the flirtatious display, a smile spreading across his lips. It'd been a while since someone went through great lengths to get his attention. But there was a cloud of doubt that hung over him.

_Surely there was no way this could be so easy...there's no way someone like him could someone like me_

The song was coming to a close, and once again Mercury's tone came across as pointed. Almost like an invitation for more.

(Lyric)

**_Recommended at the price_ **

**_Insatiable an appetite_ **

**_Wanna try? You wanna try..._ **

It was only the first performance of the night, and Crowley wasn't sure that his heart could last any more. It pounded harder than the drums Taylor played, and the blood in his veins moved fast and hot and bittersweet. For the first time in a very, very long time, he was truly okay with the attention of another being, and the resulting warmth that floated through him.


	2. Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets to meet with Freddie Mercury up close and personal.

_Edinburgh, 2nd September 1976, 10 pm_

The door before Crowley was closed. He didn't need the flashy sign on it to tell him what, or rather who was behind it. He knew there was only one person that could afford a room like this in all of Edinburgh, along with the security that swarmed the reception and halls. The only reason he even had the right to be in front of that door was because of the words on a piece of paper he held in his balled-up fist and the clearance of one of the stagehands who was long gone.

None of that should have mattered to him. He could have gone in if he wanted to, not caring about what rules ordinary people placed. He could snap his fingers and the door would be gone and then. He was a demon for Go- Sata- whoever the fuck's sake. He could do anything he wants anytime he wants.

Anything, of course, except opening an ordinary door. He couldn't even find it in him to reach for the doorknob. None of his fake bravado was there to carry him along with this endeavour. It had all but evaporated around him when he arrived at the door. All that was left was a man that was afraid. Afraid of this whole thing being a joke, or worse, a trap, afraid that the man he sought after would change his mind.

_Afraid of being rejected again_.

After another five minutes of contemplation, and muttering a bunch of encouragement, Crowley turned around to go home, get a nice bottle of whiskey and fantasize about what could have been that night. Imagine him, trying to get with Freddie Mercury. What a laughable, embarrassing idea, thinking anyone would want his presence.

Then, he heard the click of a latch turning and the push of a door.

"James! I thought you called in that lovely- Oh, there you are! I've been waiting!"

Crowley stopped cold in his tracks at the sound of the voice. This can't be real. This really has to be some joke.

He turned around and found that it wasn't a dream. Freddie Mercury stood in front of him, in all his glamour and all his glory while wearing nothing but red boxer briefs. Crowley scanned the man searching for anything that would indicate a trick, a ruse, a lie. There was nothing that he could discern from the figure before him.

"Don't you want to come in?" He stretched an open hand to Crowley, who's mind was still unsure

Didn't you want this? Take his stupid hand!

Crowley took Mercury's warm hand in his cold one. He felt his knees go weak as he followed the singer into his room. The room in question wasn't as flashy as Crowley imagined; a simple queen-sized bed, a couch and a small coffee table were arranged in the dimly lit room. They landed on the couch at the same time. He hadn't let go of Crowley's hand the whole time.

"I'm so glad you could come and see me.” His free hand parted through Crowley’s sea of dark red hair for a moment, then took a moment rest on his face. Crowley could feel the heat rise in his face and the back of his neck. It was a lot

“Would you like anything?” It took Crowley a moment to respond as his faculties were declining

“N-no, not really.”

“Are you sure? I have some fancy wine from the '50s.” He looked pleadingly 

He finally obliged. After all, it's not every day one gets to share drinks with a star. Crowley watched as Mercury grabbed glasses and the wine, looked around the room, and couldn't help but notice that under all that pomp and showiness, there was just a normal human being. His walk was just as normal as any other person's. Freddie Mercury was just a person who was just trying to live his life. This made him feel more comfortable at the thought of being in the room with the singer.

“It's an old wine, a gift from a friend back in London. It's supposed to taste like 'Heaven', but we'll see.” His laugh echoed in Crowley's mind, a lovely mirthful sound, as wine poured into a glass.

“I never caught your name,” Mercury commented as he handed Crowley a glass.

“My name is Anthony. ” But you can call me whatever you like. Crowley mentally kicks himself for even letting that thought cross his mind.

He combs his fingers slowly through Crowley’s hair once again, with a look of adoration spread across his face.

“ _Anthony,_ " The singer said the name like he was trying to savour a bite of food. "Your hair is so beautiful, Anthony. I could play with it forever.”

“Th-thank you.”

They talked a bit more about the places they've been to, people they've met, things they've done. Mercury spoke of his early days of the band, about touring and groupies and the specifics of a barn-turned-studio. Crowley told stories of English clubs and dangerous capers in the '60s, embellishing a few details here and there to make them sound a bit less...extraordinary. It was nice, sharing someone's company after nearly a decade of solitude, laughing at anecdotes of youthful mischief and adventures. He felt cosy like he was near a fireplace in a safe home.

“Take off your sunglasses.” Crowley sputtered into his glass at the sudden command.

“I’m sorry, come again?”

“I said, take off your sunglasses. I want to see all of your face, darling.”

Crowley hesitated. He knew he couldn’t miracle his eyes to look human, one of the lovely perks of being a demon. There were times he'd shown his eyes and been screamed at, stoned at, and beaten up because of it. No matter how much Crowley wanted to trust him, he didn't know how this man would react. He decided if things got too dicey, he could just miracle his way out of the room and pretend the whole ordeal was a bad dream. He slowly pulled his glasses away from his face. He looked down, trying to hide what he could from the singer's view. 

"It's a birth defect, not the nicest thing to look at. Hence, sunglasses." He gave a small nervous laugh, spinning the end of his shades in his hands.

Mercury held his chin and gently lifted it up as if to get a better look into his golden eyes. Crowley clenched his jaw as he braced himself for a raised hand, a shout, any indicator of violence at all. It did not come, only a soft smile.

“Who wouldn't want to look at eyes that mimic the sun?”

Crowley could tell if a human was lying. He couldn't feel any sign of this in the man cradling his chin. And yet the idea of the statement was ludicrous. His eyes were a symbol of his "sins", his unworthiness, his disgraceful descent. Even he himself hated looking at those hideous glowing things. It was the reminder of a past life he couldn't live ever again.

It truly was the nicest thing said about his eyes.

And in instant, Mercury's lips crashed onto his. He couldn't tell if it was his nerves screaming at him, the alcohol bubbling through him or the warmth of the kiss, whatever it was, it pushed him to kiss back. He could taste some of the wine from Mercury's mouth, along with nicotine and something that he couldn't really distinguish. Maybe that part was just Mercury himself. Crowley let the tongue through his mouth so the taste of the singer would stay with him for a long time. A hand gripped onto his shoulder, slid down his sides and rested on his waist. The other ran through his hair with a slight tug and Crowley moaned. He wrapped his arms around Mercury's neck to pull their bodies closer. His pulse raced with excitement. _Guess this is really happening._

_**When I'm not with you** _

_**I think of you always** _

_**(I miss those long hot summer nights) I miss you** _

__

_**When I'm not with you** _

_**Think of me always** _

_**Love you, love you** _

Then Crowley began to imagine what this moment would be like with someone else. He imagined staring into blue instead of brown, pale hands on his body, pink lips on his. It felt so wrong that he was with any person other than _him_. Thoughts of his angel rushed to the front of his mind, and he began to panic. He pulled away so abruptly that Mercury almost lost his balance and fell off the couch. Crowley was on his feet in seconds, breath racing, hands shaking.

_**Hey boy,** _

_**Where do you get it from** _

_**Hey boy, where did you go?** _

"What's wrong?"

"I-I uh...." His eyes danced around nervously as his head spun at a dizzying speed. Why can't he just move on? He knew his angel didn't hate him, but couldn't love him either. He could be with anyone else, but he knew that a deeply buried part of him would wish he could do those things with only one person in the world

Why couldn't he just let go?

"I'm sorry. I can't do this." He felt himself get sick with emotions. Guilt? Anger? Regret? He couldn't tell the difference anymore.

"It's alright, we don't have to do anything if you're not comfortable." Brown eyes watched him with concern.

"No, no it's not that. You've been wonderful, really, it's just there's..." He trailed off as he looked at the singer.

"I...well...there's someone else."

"I see." He nodded thoughtfully. For some odd reason, Crowley felt he should explain himself further.

"I've cared about this person for a very, very long time, and I...I can't get him out of my head. And I know he cares about me too, he's shown it in multitudes of ways, but I will never- I can't-" 

As he spoke, Crowley realized he'd been burying his mixed emotions inside of him and they were ready to burst through him no matter how hard he tried to swallow them back down.

"He's never going to love me the same way, because of what I am, because of some stupid old rules and I-"

He turned away as he felt the tears well up in his eyes. He rarely ever cried, let alone in front of another person, since it only let self-pity seep through him. To say he was embarrassed was an understatement. He heard Mercury get up from the couch and felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

"It's okay. You don't have to say anymore if you don't want. Just let it out."

Crowley turned around and fell into his warm embrace, his sobs muffled in Mercury's neck. He held onto him and let 5000 years worth of repressed feelings spill out onto the other's shoulder.

****

**_Everything's all right_ **

**_Just hold on tight_ **

**_That's because I'm a good old-fashioned fashioned lover boy_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard for me to write because of a lot of emotions were involved, I didn't really know what song would fit this chapter, and also make-out scenes aren't really my expertise. I didn't know what Freddie Mercury would wear if he was just in his hotel room. All of this is just a guess at this point.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback is welcome!
> 
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> [Writers Twitter](https://twitter.com/jackjonesnga)  
> [Personal Twitter ](https://twitter.com/bi_jackass)  
> [My Tapas Book](https://tapas.io/series/How-to-Capture-A-Masquerade-And-Other-Odd-Tales1)


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